Angel, Salamander, and Raven
by Tokinep
Summary: An unlikely trio of Space Marines are taken from their respective chapters as a malevolent force hailing from the warp has its own agenda for their destinies.


It is the 41st millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on The Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die.

Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battle fleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless Planetary Defense Forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants – and worse.

To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.

**Chapter One:**

**A Small Thing**

To'ken remained within his harness, silent, contemplative. His brothers were in a similar state, remaining still aside from the occasional jostling of ceramite brought on from turbulence. A voice crackled from above

'_Atmosphere breach complete, closing upon designated coordinates.'_ A clipped response sounded over the vox.

'_Understood, get us there with haste brother.' _The voice belonged to Sergeant Bo'dere. The Sergeant commanded To'ken's Devastator squad, of which contained six brothers. The rest of the Thunderhawk's troop hold carried two Tactical squads lead by Sergeants Da'men and Sha'lar. To'ken considered all of the Sergeants to be proud and capable fire-born with tenacious spirits. The mission should go well and To'ken even allowed himself a small chuckle.

Immediately the marine across from him stirred in his harness, though his helmet lenses were affixed to To'ken long before.

'What amuses you brother?' the marine inquired. The voice was of genuine curiosity. To'ken smiled beneath his helmet.

'How little a chance the enemy will have against such an array of Fire-born.' To'ken heard grunts of approval emanating from other battle-brothers throughout the hold. The inquiring marine hadn't had his curiosity thoroughly slaked and opened a private channel with To'ken.

_'Brother what are we to expect down there?'_

To'ken chuckled yet again and turned his attention to the marine. _'Do not worry yourself too much, little brother, Genestealers are but an all too common enemy to Astartes. When dealing with them it is wise to not underestimate them, for as soon as you do so they would have already hacked you to pieces, or far worse. Trust in your wargear, your brothers, and your gifts and you shall come from the anvils trials unscathed or at least alive.'_

_ 'Better crippled in body then corrupt in mind.' _came the marine's immediate response.

This was no ordinary marine, this was To'ken's nephew in the mortal sense in that he shared To'ken's name sake. So as to avoid confusion, Bo'dere had decided to merely use their first names instead. To'ken's was an ancient one, given to him by his mortal brother as a playful nickname, Toki. Those days were long gone and fragmented to Toki, but the marine across from him was the progeny of the very same brother. A link to the past that Toki cherished as much as an Astartes could of such a thing. Zel was the lads' name, and he looked to Toki with the utmost respect and admiration.

So did all of his brothers, for his veterancy was indicator of his prowess in battle as well as his wargear. Unlike most of his brothers, Toki was sporting an Errant variant of the generic Mark VII power armor. Of this Toki was proud, for it was a gift from Master of the Forge, Argos, himself.

'_What's the most efficient way of dealing with the Genestealers, brother?' _Inquired Zel. Toki would have expected the lad to want to take long draughts from the ocean of knowledge Toki had gathered throughout the years.

'_We are dealing with a Genestealer cult, and they are rather flexible in their tactics in that their various progeny have different functions to fulfill. The majority rely on hand-to-hand combat, utilizing their rending claws which can easily fell terminator armor.' _Toki saw the lad nod. '_However, some of their spawn will look very similar to the local populace and are able to utilize ranged weaponry. Their tactics will keep you on your toes, rely on the sacred weapon you wield to eliminate swathes of them in concentrated bursts. I'll handle the stragglers.'_ Toki gestured to his master-crafted flamer mag-locked to the small of his back.

'_Thank you, brother.' _Came the lads reply and receded back into his meditation.

Toki was glad to assist the lad, as he was for all of his brothers. Zel, however, had a very close tie with Toki that went beyond that of Astartes brotherhood. It was this that granted Toki's attentive vigil over Zel's progression in the Salamanders Chapter, even though he had only recently ascended from the rank of scout.

Toki wondered if the lad was embarrassed to a certain degree of this, but Toki squelched that line of thought. The lad was of a good sort, and would make it far in the chapter as long as Toki supported him. Still, what if Toki's attention would weaken the mettle of Zel and when his time came upon the anvil he would break? These were dark thoughts, thoughts Toki did not care for. Toki denied himself the pleasure of conversing with Zel further, the lad needed his solace. Self-reliance and isolationism were essential tenants of the Promethean Creed, and while Toki was an adept in the creed, Zel was a mere novice and needed to exercise the creed as much as he could. So Toki attended to his wargear and muttered litanies of functionality to his wargear and remained in silent contemplation for the remainder of their time within the Thunderhawk.

The troop hold soon began to jerk about as the Thunderhawk began taking evasive maneuvers. The Thunderhawk came under fire from the surface, where their landing coordinates were located. Toki could hear the pilot attempting to appease the machine-spirit of the craft whilst launching their only decoy flare.

'_What form of anti-air are they utilizing, brother pilot?' _Toki inquired.

'_Archaic land-to-air missiles and what appear to be modified heavy stubbers, nothing to worry about. Their aim is faulty, brother veteran, we should be at the landing zone soon.'_

Toki took some comfort in the brother pilot's words for the barbaric means arrayed against them stood no chance of smiting a mighty Thunderhawk from the sky.

_'How do mere beasts organize a means of air defense?'_ Zel asked of Toki. True that Genestealers were beasts, but doubting their intellect was a grave mistake. Regardless, Genestealers never resort to utilization of any form of technology, their intellect was that of a primal origin that came with hunting the prey the galaxy offered to them.

_'We are dealing with a cult of Genestealers, not a hive of pure-strain' _Toki affirmed. _'They may have an overabundance of generations that are capable of utilizing the local populaces' technology, or merely have taken a number of the populace hostage to operate the weaponry. Though it matters not, for their weapons are no match for a vehicle such as the Thunderhawk we now reside in.'_

_ 'Which of the beasts are capable of these things, brother veteran?'_

_ 'Have you paid no attention to the lessons within the chapter's halls, little brother?'_

Toki noticed Zel caste his gaze to the floor of the troop hold. _'I would much prefer to spend more time in the training cages with my brothers. I apologize, brother veteran.'_

Again, Zel showed his genuine honesty that Toki had come to appreciate in the lad. He may be slow to learn, but that would come to pass as he was tempered by the fires of battle. _That is quite alright, little brother, I shall reiterate the particular generations of the beast to you.'_

'_I've always come to appreciate your demeanor, brother veteran, a potent mixture of Pragmatism and concern.'_ Toki wasn't aware sergeant Bo'den was listening in, though he had every right to. '_Why I remember when I was in your boots Zel. Toki watching over me like some angel sent from Vulkan himself and guiding my exploits just as he does with you.' _Toki could see Zel erected himself partially in his harness.

'_And look where you are now, Asher' _Toki utilized the sergeant's first name from familiarity._ 'Commanding a squad of Vulkan's sons into glorious battle against the enemies of the Emperor.'_

'_Always musing like a member of the Chaplaincy' _came Bo'den's quick reply. The two allowed themselves a chuckle.

'_It seems everyone is in good spirits with you around, brother veteran'_ Zel declared.

'_Aye, that we are' _and a series of gruff laughterfilled Toki's battle helm. Apparently the entire squad was listening in. _'Alright brothers, enough talk we must prepare for the work to come' _commanded sergeant Bo'den. Toki allowed his pride to lighten his spirit and reinforce his resolve for what was to come. Toki was glad that he played such a part in the Salamanders, he was but one member. If he were to fall then there were two bright Space Marines he had a part in upbringing to take his place that would fuel the flames of the Chapter. As these thoughts comforted Toki, the troop hold had grown still and the hatch began to open. They had arrived. Zel would have to learn of their enemies upon the anvil of war.

The Thunderhawk hatch had opened and the grav-harnesses lifted. Toki flexed his massive bulk, bigger than the average Salamander due to his Themian heritage. Zel hefted his heavy bolter and filed out of the Thunderhawk under Bo'den's command, Toki fell in behind Zel. He was not much bigger then Zel, maybe a half a head more.

The Thunderhawk had landed on the outcropping of a spire that was the source of all of their qualms. The Salamanders found themselves within a docking aperture which harbored a few other vessels. Though they were merely private ships meant for scuttling across the planetary surface, not as technologically advanced as the Thunderhawk that had brought them here. As they filed out of the Thunderhawk, each fire-born cast his gaze through the windows of the docking aperture to marvel at the vaunting spires of the Hive World. The spires were wreathed in smog and other pollutants vented by the worlds daunting populace. The atmosphere was nearly engulfed in clouds of pollutants to the point that the fire-born, even with their occulobe implants, could barely make out a faint blue glow of the Hive World's star. They called this world Noxis.

As soon as all the Salamanders had fallen into their respective squads massive doors began to close above them to isolate the docking apertures atmosphere from that of Noxis. The dock had a daunting view of Noxis's largest spires via numerous windows. The squads began to traverse the length of the docking aperture toward an obvious exit that was populated by a host of Planetary Defense Force troopers.

By means of ritual, the most senior of the fire-born would handle diplomatic endeavors. This would fall into Toki's lap, but this was a mission for the young ones. So Da'men took this responsibility.

The Salamanders had closed upon the PDF escort and an officer who appeared more decorated than the others presented himself to Da'men whom was at the very front of the Salamander formation. The officer gave a crisp salute and looked up to Da'men's imposing form unflinching, the same could not be said for his comrades however.


End file.
